


Forays and Visitations

by EmmaDeMarais



Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:25:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaDeMarais/pseuds/EmmaDeMarais
Summary: In which a witch ventures into the Dreaming for a boon, only to gain more than she sought to win from the Dreamlord.





	Forays and Visitations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iberiandoctor (jehane)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehane/gifts).



> Warning: Brief references to rape, torture and murder, not graphic in any way or involving canon characters.

Thessaly has no fear of kings nor castles; the mortal world cannot threaten her mortality, nor can any earthly authority subjugate her own considerable power.

She has traveled fearlessly, leaving the solid human earth behind, exploring alternate realms and dimensions… Always heading towards knowledge, seeking what she needs, taking through witchcraft that which she cannot obtain through payment, guile or barter.

Often the journey is of greater value than the item originally sought, at least those times when her arrival resulted in alliances – even uneasy ones. The promise of future commerce is always handy when one is essentially immortal and often in need of rare ingredients for obscure occult rituals.

Or satisfactory yet temporary companionship.

For while Thessaly is her own woman, she does – from time to time – seek a brief respite from the solitary existence of one who watches everyone fade and die around her in time. 

As a bonus, sometimes the sex is amazing, so worth the small effort to let someone in for a spell.

~

To enter the Dreaming, one needs only to fall asleep.

To enter the heart of the Dreaming to seek audience with the Oneiromancer, the lord of the realm: Dream of the Endless? 

A bit trickier.

~

“Rosemary for memory…”

Thessaly turned in a slow circle in the middle of the room she’d prepared for her journey. A simple cot, set up in the center, was surrounded by everything she’d need to direct her sleeping self to its specific destination in the Dreaming while maintaining her mind in a lucid state sufficient to state her business.

All she lacked was a method to return anything physical from the ethereal plane, however she had faith if Dream were to acquiesce to her request, delivery was on him.

A raven alit on her windowsill, almost invisible against the black of the night.

“Tell him I’m on my way.” She directed her speech at the raven, but managed to gain the attention of the previously dozing cat curled up in a nearby chair.

An exploratory miao as it lifted its head invited her to skritch the cat’s ears just as the raven flew away.

“You? You don’t have to worry…” It didn’t bother her that the raven understood her speech, yet the cat did not. “To you, it won’t even look like I’m gone.”

Moving to the cot, she took a sip of the special brew she’d concocted for this purpose, gathered up the handfuls of herbs and mystical objects she would need to transverse the planes and laid down to wait for sleep to draw her into the Land of Nod.

~

When she came to herself again it was with the realization that the journey, which she failed to experience in progress, had come to a conclusion already. She had arrived at her destination which was apparently just a short walk from the gate to the Dreamlord’s castle fortress.

Standing, she regained her bearing, summoning her confidence and sense of self for the short yet important approach. As she drew near the sentries shifted in their places, clearly preparing for a possible confrontation.

Three gatekeepers were arrayed above and to each side of the elaborate gate. There was a gryphon and a wyvern, but the winged steed caught her eye, so white she almost felt she had to shield her eyes, yet so beautiful she wished not to.

“Halt traveler,” the wyvern called down to her. “State your business or be gone.”

“This land and our lord do not suffer those who wander past the bounds, even unawares,” the gryphon added, a touch of menace to his voice.

“I am the witch known as The Thessalian in this time and place,” she announced, head held high, voice calm and steady, even as she kept all three entities in her sight as a precaution. “I have sent word of my arrival, six cycles agone: whispered through moly branches in the ancient tongue and carried aloft on the east wind at the appointed hour.” She brought her gaze to each of them in turn, as if in challenge. “I am expected.”

The wyvern tilted his head, as if attending an unheard voice.

“Our master confirms your tale, Thessalian. You may enter.”

“Do not stray from the path,” the gryphon warned as she took her first steps. “Your safety cannot be assured otherwise.”

Lifting her chin, feeling a little defiant after this, her first small victory in the Dreaming, she spoke. “I do not require your protection, gatekeepers. I am my own guardian.”

“Beware, mistress…” The warning came from the winged whiteness to her right as she passed through the now opened gate. “Confidence makes for a poor shield against the unknown dangers of what may only seem to be empty spaces.”

~

What Thessaly saw, felt, experienced on the pathway through the heart of the Dreaming is a tale unto itself. Perhaps it is one the seasoned witch will keep secret up until the day Dream’s sister finally escorts her ancient self to the Sunless Lands.

Suffice to say the journey was accomplished in the end despite two additional warnings from the gatekeepers and with the added benefits of having made the acquaintance of a very verbal raven, the world’s first woman plus possibly the most useful librarian in the known universe and then some.

While she may not yet call any of those beings ‘friend’, she either gained sufficient goodwill to warrant a future conference or bartered for secrets and revelations useful to her kind in exchange for promised favors back on terra firma.

All in all, she may return empty-handed in regards to the original task she undertook – which she knew from the start – but not without some small gains to speak of.

Or not.

Thessaly keeps her own counsel.

~

There was no fanfare, no greeting, when she finally crossed the threshold and found herself in what she assumed was the Dreamlord’s throne room.

It was every bit as pompous and self-important as any human king’s seat of power, perhaps more so as the power absolute of his own mutable domain, Dream was not limited to reality in his decorating choices.

“Feh…” she huffed, taking it all in. “I expected no less.”

The actual throne itself, impressive as it was, was currently empty. As she turned around, seeking a servant or perhaps an errant dreamer called into short term service, a voice came from the wings.

“And I expected you much earlier.”

~

Most humans never consciously experience the Endless with any of their senses, much less achieve a full audience with one of the siblings. Some might run into the arms of Delirium, but only as a result of running away from Despair. Others might fear Destruction more than Destiny when they rightly should fear Desire as he/she would be more likely to lay waste to their tiny lives simply because it amuses her/him.

Thessaly had centuries of experience behind her; she refused to allow a personification to frighten her, no matter how omnipotent and inexterminable he may be in this, the seat of his power.

Despite this, her voice still managed to fail her in that moment.

~

Dream approached, relatively simply garbed yet all in black, looking up from a scroll in his hand he’d been reading.

“Or is six cycles no longer the same in human terms?” There was a note of amusement – humor even – in his tone, or at least she interpreted it in that manner. Thessaly was finding it difficult not to be surprised by his appearance, especially his eyes or what light shone where human eyes would live. She had expected something roughly human shaped, as Death normally was, or at least animal shaped – as Bast had experienced many moons past. Dream, in the flesh as it were, was a little of both in a way and a great deal something else she’d never seen before.

Though not unattractive in this current aspect, even if he was colored in moon and shadows and whatever shade whispers were.

“What is time to the Endless?” she tossed out, as calmly as if the conversation had been going on for hours, days, lifetimes, not the fractional time of the dream realm.

“It is of little consequence, yes,” he agreed, tilting his head as he took her appearance in, appraising as if she were a curiosity, certainly not any sort of threat. “However, it is only good form to be present at one’s abode when company is expected.” He drew a sheaf of moly from his robes. “You know of this herb, do you not?”

“Of course,” she stated, crossing her arms. “You must know I used it in the ritual I performed to announce my arrival.”

“That is not the only ritual moly is used for.” He tucked it away inside his robes. It was only then that Thessaly noticed a sort of licking of flames at the base of the dark folds as they dragged on the floor behind him. “But you have come for a boon, as so many have before you.” He headed to his throne and proceeded to array himself over the chair with the easy grace of one who has no one to impress and every grace possible in their own person.

“Indeed, Oneiromancer. I come seeking an instrument of vengeance. I have been charged with the punishment of a man so evil his judgment cannot wait until the Morningstar claims him for eternity. He must not be allowed peace nor respite for the remainder of his waking days nor fodder for his abusive nights.”

She paused, fighting down the anger that swelled within her as she recalled the horrific tales the women who survived had shared with her. If they had not summoned her and paid her well for aid in punishing their tormentor, she would have used her prodigious skills to end the pathetic being’s reign of terror anyway, out of sheer hatred.

“Continue…”

A deep breath and she recommenced her tale.

“This man… He holds a modicum of power near where a coven has practiced magicks peacefully for centuries. He has wielded his small power in ways that offend nature and all that is right and just. He discovered the women in the coven and decided they were to be his private playthings.” It was hard not to grit her teeth, the venom of animosity flowing so strong in her blood. “Those that denied him, who fought, were murdered. The remainder were forced to submit and kept as slaves, brutalized without respite until all his disgusting appetites had been sated upon their bodies.”

“I see. And what is it you wish from me?”

“One tiny speck of sand, Dreamlord,” she stated firmly. “I have obtained the necessary ingredients for a ritual that will render him insane with visions day and night every bit as cruel and vicious as the acts he visited on the women of the coven. All I lack is a grain of sand from your pouch. One grain. That is the boon I seek.”

“And what do you offer in return?” At her silence, he persisted. “Am I simply to entrust you with such a powerful object? To lend you a sliver of my power simply to counter one human’s wrongs? What of all the other women wronged? Of the other men and women who abuse their earthly power? Is the Morningstar’s realm no longer sufficient to address all possible human evils?”

Unable to counter his arguments, she simply shrugged.

“I guessed, and rightly so I imagine, that you would be less likely to grant me a handful. With a real supply of sand, I could rival Lucifer on the earthly plane as punisher of those destined for Hell. It’s not as if I lack sufficient time to seek out those who deserve such treatment. Few would consider it an unsatisfying vocation as livelihoods go.”

The sound that came down from the throne was at first, indiscernible, lost as it was behind Dream’s hands over his face, but as he released them she heard peals of laughter ring out in the vast hall.

“Oh, but you have exceeded my expectations for this intercourse, Thessalian. I had hoped to find some small amusement in denying your brash demands, yet I am finding your company to be far more delightful and enlightening than anticipated.”

He approached her, seeming to more float down from the raised throne dais than walk, his robes curling around him in an almost sentient manner.

“I shall grant your boon and more.” He moved in close enough for her to feel a sense of headiness at the nearness of his physical presence. He raised his hand, cupping her jaw in his pale fingers. “But only with a single condition.” He lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered his instructions to her, the coolness of his breath on her skin causing a tiny shudder to escape her control.

The nearness, his power, that voice in her ear… It had been many decades since she had allowed someone such close access to her person and for a being so powerful, his gentleness surprised her beyond what she thought possible.

Withdrawing, he shifted his hand to touch her forehead, at which she began to feel her consciousness fading.

“Farewell, Thessalian…Thessaly if you will… Until we meet again…Soon…”

~

She woke with a hot flush she didn’t understand until she realized the cat had fallen asleep around her neck, fur heating her flesh further than the already warm room had.

As she’d hoped, a tiny version of the Sandman’s pouch lay on the floor beside her cot. Opening it up, she found not one but over a dozen grains of sand as promised.

One to exact revenge, nineteen more to heal the minds of the coven’s survivors.

For the gift of dreams is not simply to grant escape from life’s travails, but to offer healing and peace to those so troubled.

~

Eleven days later the ritual had been performed, the man deposed and left screaming in a cell in his former palace and the women brought to a place of renewed health and serenity thanks to twenty tiny grains of sand and one powerful and fearless witch who was willing to take on one of the Endless.

Still weary, Thessaly rested after her efforts, content to simply allow time to pass at its leisure.

She felt no guilt at choosing to remain in her bedclothes or even in her bed past the sun’s journey through the sky. She had earned her respite and the satisfaction that came with it.

“You have honored the terms of our agreement.”

Thessaly couldn’t help but startle at the sudden appearance in her room of an uninvited, yet not entirely unwelcome, guest.

“I am well pleased.”

She got to her feet, which did not aid her much in the difference in their heights. The Oneiromancer still towered over her, especially while her feet were bare.

“Does that mean I get more?” she demanded briskly.

Again, the wholly natural yet completely unnatural sound of Dream laughing filled her ears.

“Ah, Thessaly… You are as consistent as you are persistent. Perhaps I shall give you a second chance to convince me.”

All at once, knowledge flooded her mind.

This visit, him coming to her, what it could mean…

While she had sought only her boon she could not deny there lay greater interests past it, interests she could now pursue without concern for her kindred.

She began to step towards him, feeling the blackness of his cloak expanding, surrounding them both.

“Shall we retire to my realm to discuss certain possibilities?”

She took the final step to close the distance.

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta!


End file.
